Nin. She ’s up? Then give her word
We’re here.
Dok. She ’s not within, my lord.
Nin. Abroad!
So soon? She ’s on the general’s business?
Dok. And yours, O king! She ’s joined the battle!
Nin. She!
Vas. Ha! ha! Do you believe this?
Nin. Ay ... ’tis so.
I know her spirit. Here ’s mettle for a queen!
(Menones uncovers and half rises)
Vas. You would not make her one, your majesty!
Though she should lead your troops to victory,
Still is she but your general’s daughter, and
Assyria’s crown is given of gods to gods!
Nin. And Ninus knows to keep his race untainted.
But all the jewels of a king, my Vassin,
Are not worn in his crown. Some in the heart
Are casketed, and there this maid shall shine
For me alone. Were she of heavenly race—